You too? Stumbling with a far too heavy burden that’s inverting the camel’s back? Packing the lie there’s no rest for the weary?

Listen! Through trembling branches dusted white and down shafts of slanting light in woodlands, Someone is whispering.  Someone is calling.

Come into rest. Cease from striving. 

It is finished.

His arms are bigger. They hold all we frantically grasp to control. Rest in the presence of your Shepherd today. He has this. He has you.

blog 3Come to me for restblog 1


When You Can’t Feel Anything

I’m unpacking lunch boxes, handing out after school snacks and listening with all ears tuned to little people chatter about their day, when out of the blue her call comes through.

Her…the one who’s journeyed deep waters with me.  Who wasn’t afraid of rampaging texts as I worked honestly through the latest crisis at hand.

The one who stood firm in faith as funds emptied and we waited for jobs to come through.

The one who always said confidently “Jesus goes with you” as we’d up and pack for another “even though I walk through the valley” travel.

And all this mostly through text and email.  The encouraging steady heart of a friend reassuring she was there through it all.

Not tiring.

Not wearying that the battles re-occurred and bloodied everyone in the process.

She was and is and will be there.

We chatted small talk when a catch in my throat caught as she revealed her true reason for calling: to cheer on one who was battle weary.

The words were few, but something in her quiet resolute heart opened a window of my soul giving permission to feel.

To feel how hard it’s been.

To count the cost.

To shed tears of loss.

To remember that in all the getting it wrong, my Father’s heart is always warmed by faithfulness.  By our picking-back-up-agains to follow into unknown seas.

And for the first time in months, tears flowed and didn’t stop long into the moonless night.

Who knew?


The ticket out of survival mode.

Softening a heart preparing it for spring planting.


2014 in review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog. Thank you for your faithful readership and support!  This blog helps keep me going on dark days. Happy New Year!

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,200 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.


jell-o(Apologies for the pre-mature post.  I-pads do tricky things with fingers.  Just delete if you received earlier via email the uncompleted one, and here is the real deal…I promise. Happy New Year friend.)

Our dear friend, who’s more like an uncle really, was visiting over Christmas when in the middle of one of my fever-spike-melt-downs, help girl in her innocent ten year old voice turns to him and asks “any words of wisdom?.”

Any words of wisdom…anyone??

“Because we’re all clinging to jello right now” I wanted to scream! “And it’s not working out for us!”

And I feel we sort of all do this at New Years. We’re peering through the thick silence echoing our question and we wonder, is there more to cling to this year…than just jello? Will resolutions help? Or more discipline? Or the desire to really want a change?

I wish I had some flowery high in the sky answer that would end all pain and suffering. That would give brave and make a difference. But I’ve learned that in all my striving, there’s much I can’t control and at the end of the day an empty list leaves for an infinitely more guilty heart.

So I give you this. This the mantra of my year. The hope for each uncertain day. And I think you’ll agree it’s considerably better than jello. So let’s put our hope not in New Years resolutions, but in the God who makes all things new.

Relying on God has to begin all over again as if nothing had yet been done. ~C. S. Lewis